


I don't think I'm ready yet

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 22:50:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dele hasn’t felt this way since his school years. When he walks into the canteen, he’s sure he feels eyes on him. It makes his skin crawl. It’s like there’s something wrong with him and everyone can see but him."They all know," whispers the little voice in the back of his head. By the time he takes his seat, his cheeks are burning and he’s half convinced everyone does know, even though there’s no way anyone possibly can.





	I don't think I'm ready yet

Dele doesn’t mean for it to happen. He’s only come back into the training ground to grab his coat. He doesn’t plan to meet anyone, doesn’t plan to linger. But when he reaches the door of the locker room, he catches a glimpse of pale skin and fuzzy, blonde hair. Eric’s face, cheeks flushed and lip bitten, a glimmer of sweat on his brow. He stares for a moment before he realizes what he’s even doing, what’s happening. In retrospect, it’s perfect, painfully obvious.

_Good for Eric, getting it in on the training grounds_, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He peaks in a little farther, expecting to see a tanned hip, or the curve of a breast. Maybe even the stretch of some girl’s lips around Eric’s wet cock. _What?_ Before he can question that thought too much, his brain finally registers what he’s seeing. And it’s enough to make him fall straight through the door. It’s not a girl. It’s Jan Vertonghen. 

Eric’s got his hand wrapped gently around the back of Jan’s head, and he’s stroking his hair with his thumb. He’s thrusting his hips up, just a little. And, just like Dele dumbly wanted, his cock is dripping with Jan’s saliva. His breath stops completely when he notices Jan’s hands. One of them’s out of view entirely, no doubt gripping Eric’s hip. But the other’s in between Eric’s legs, finger extended, sliding deep into Eric in a way Dele’s never even let himself imagine. He watches Eric squirm and sigh every time Jan twists his hand, and Dele’s heart twists in his chest. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t think he _wants _to be watching this still, but here he is. 

Jan pulls off- Dele can hear the pop from where he’s sitting. He says something to Eric, but Dele can’t quite see what. Eric leans back and groans, and Jan wraps his other hand around Eric’s hard cock. He rubs it so slowly Dele can almost feel it. And Eric, he’s so tense, watching them is nearly torture. But it only takes a few more of those agonizingly slow strokes, a few more twists of Jan’s fingers, before Eric’s crying out, and coming all over Jan’s face, and fuck, _shit_, Dele’s stomach is clenching and he’s bracing himself against the door because he’s coming too. Hot, throbbing, all over the inside of his shorts, so unexpected and so hard it aches. _Oh my god, what the fuck. _

_Fuck the coat_. Dele backs up down the hallway on shaky legs, heart hammering in his chest. There’s definitely come dripping down his thigh, and he needs to get out of there, right now, _right now_, before someone sees him, before someone finds out what he did.

Dele speeds home, trying his hardest to ignore the uncomfortable dampness in his shorts, trying not to think about what happened. He’s so fucking distracted he burns his dinner on the stove, then puts it in the dishwasher instead of throwing it away. When he finally finishes cleaning up, it’s so late he can’t do anything other than order Domino’s. He sits on his couch, stuffing the greasy pizza in his face, watching cartoons and trying not to feel like the most disgusting person in the world. 

That night, he dreams it’s his mouth wrapped around Eric’s dick, Eric’s fingers sliding up into his ass. By the time he wakes up, he’s got the biggest erection he’s ever had. It bounces heavily between his legs as he walks to the shower. Each time it grazes the inside of his thigh, a little wave of arousal runs up his spine, and he shivers. _No, _he thinks, _please, he’s my teammate. He’s my best friend. _

He’s _so _horny a gentle breeze might send him over the edge. But he’s not going to touch it. He’s not going to let himself come again, not thinking about this. He makes it into the shower in the end, even though he has to stop for a minute in the doorway to collect himself. He stands there, under freezing cold water desperately wishing it had been someone else with Jan, anyone else. His fingers are already turning blue by the time his erection finally starts to flag. He dries himself off with a sigh of relief and starts about getting ready for the day. 

When he’s ready, he surveys himself in the mirror. He looks normal enough, but his balls feel tight and heavy, and he can still feel an ache deep in his gut. He tries desperately to put it all out of his mind, but he’s not sure he’s going to be able to look Eric in the eye, or Jan for that matter. He probably should have at least gotten himself off, but there’s no time to change his mind now. He’s going to be late if he waits any longer, so he packs up the rest of his things and leaves.

Dele hasn’t felt this way since his school years. When he walks into the canteen, he’s sure he feels eyes on him. It makes his skin crawl. It’s like there’s something wrong with him and everyone can see but him. _They all know_, whispers the little voice in the back of his head. By the time he takes his seat, his cheeks are burning and he’s half convinced everyone _does _know, even though there’s no way anyone possibly can.

But the worst part is, he has to go up against Jan in drills that afternoon. The attackers get a head start in this drill, but Dele’s so distracted, so paralyzed, Jan tackles the ball cleanly away from him every time. When Jan shouts instructions to the rest of the back line, all he can think about is Jan’s lips stretching over the tip of Eric’s cock. When Jan points at goal, all Dele sees are his fingers disappearing between Eric’s legs. 

It’s so bad, Pochettino pulls him and sends him inside to train on the stationary bike. Dele walks slowly, like he’s walking the plank. Because this is the worst place Pochettino could have sent him. Eric, perpetually injured Eric, is inside on the stationary bike. Dele swallows, tries to keep his exhale from shaking. He pushes open the door.

“Delboy!” Eric cries, throwing out his arms. _Eric. _Dele’s stomach does a little flip flop, and he forces a smile onto his face. It must look funny, though, because suddenly Eric stops spinning his legs.

The whirring bike falls silent, and Eric gracefully steps off.

“What are you doing here?” Eric says.

“Oh, uh,” Dele mumbles, face flushed red. “Off day.”

“Really?” Eric cocks his head to the side. The faint concern drops from his face, and he falls back into an easy grin. “I thought you were just here to see me.”

“Um, no, not really,” Dele says, trying to dodge around Eric to the bike.

“What’s wrong with you?” says Eric, pulling him close in under his arm and digging a knuckle into his scalp.

“Nothing,” Dele manages to choke out. He’s instantly half hard in his trainers, he can feel it. He snakes out from under Eric’s arm and jogs into the bathroom before anyone can see. He stands in the stall, staring at the growing bulge in his joggers, willing it to go away. The minutes stretch on, and if anything it just keeps getting harder and more uncomfortable. So he sneaks into the shower, strips himself, and turns on the water- a comfortable warm this time. 

The water bouncing off his neglected shaft feels like amazing, and part of him wants to just stand under the droplets until push him over the edge. But it’s been too long, and he needs more. His shaft is starting to throb gently, so he spits into his hand and curls it around himself. _Oh_. There’s no words for how good this feels. He’s sensitive, so sensitive after not coming for so long, and at first he can’t really move at all. _Oh, Eric. _He squeezes himself lightly a few times, and it helps to take some of the pressure off. He leans back against the wall and starts to move his hand. 

He has to go so slowly, even slower than what Jan was doing to Eric yesterday. Each gentle tug makes the arousal pool in his stomach, and his breath hitch in his throat. But he needs more, he needs to- _Ah_. He wraps his other hand around himself, and the sensation is so overwhelming he has to let himself slide down the wall to sit on the floor. He sits there, tiles cold against his ass, fucking into both of his hands. 

He’s so fucking horny, he definitely should have taken care of this earlier. He’s hit with a desperate need to just be filled. _No, I don’t want that, _he thinks. But he does. He wants it so bad. He tries speeding up his hands, finish himself off before he can even let his mind go there, but it doesn’t work. Suddenly it’s all he can think of. The tip of Eric’s dick nudging between his cheeks, pressing into him slowly, slowly- 

“Oh, _Eric._”

And that’s it, his entire body tenses up and he erupts all over himself, whimpering. He keeps rubbing himself, and his muscles keep clenching, and his dick keeps spilling come over his fists. _Please, let it stop, _he thinks. Finally, when he’s eased the last few drops out, he lets out a broken sigh.

He sits there for a while, just trying to get his breathing back under control, still his beating heart. When he finally stands up, wraps the towel around his waist, he doesn’t exactly feel better. He’s going to have to figure this out, somehow, before anyone-

“Dele.” 

Dele shrieks, loses his footing, and falls hard onto the damp tiles. It’s Jan, standing in the showers silent as a ghost. 

“Fuck, sorry, are you ok?” Jan says, holding out a hand. Dele doesn’t take it. Jan sighs, and withdraws his hand.

“Look, Dele,” Jan says, licking his lips. “I’m not with Eric.”

“What?” Dele mumbles guiltily, staring at the drain between his ankles. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jan. I’m not-“

He trails off at the look on Jan’s face.

“It’s just to get off,” Jan says, shrugging.

“Oh,” Dele says, mind racing. “I- uh,”

“I think he’s got his eye on someone else,” Jan says, and then he winks. Dele’s heart soars at the implication, and he tries to keep the elation from reaching his face. Something about the way Jan’s eyes crinkle at the corners tells him he’s not successful.

“Come on, Del, up you get,” Jan says, reaching out his hand. This time, Dele takes it. Jan starts heading back toward the locker room, but Dele still hasn’t quite found his feet yet.

“Oh, and, Dele? It’s ok to take your time. If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he says.

And then he’s gone.

Dele follows him, moments later, shaking his head in disbelief. He has a lot to figure out. But can’t keep the grin off his face. 


End file.
